


Never Has He Ever (Not That There's Much)

by jg291



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enjolras drinks for the first time ever, M/M, Never Have I Ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jg291/pseuds/jg291
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras agrees to drink (yes, alcohol this time) in exchange for Grantaire helping him out with a protest. He starts to feel unfamiliar feelings for the artist during a game of Never Have I Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I wrote this a year ago and never posted, and I just found it and read it again and liked it so here you go. There will be more chapters, but probably in a few weeks once finals are done.

It was a deal Enjolras isn’t sure he should have made. 

Last week, he was convinced the current protest was going to fail. Two men had been caught kissing in the courtyard, and the school told them they would be suspended and unable to take their finals, meaning they effectively failed the semester. Apparently there was a law on the books that punished “blatant homosexual behavior,” and it was going to be enforced today. In 2014. Enjolras literally could not believe the inequality he saw around him, and what a surprise, he turned to Les Amis to start a protest.

He hadn’t been able to get the word out, initially. The campus newspaper had already decided their editorials throughout the end of the semester and it’s not like anyone but his closest friends read his social justice blog.

So, he turned to Grantaire. The deal had been simple, really. Grantaire would make some ads for him, and if they won, Enjolras would take a night off from changing the world and drink with his friends. Yes, drink. Not sit around while they were drinking, but imbibe in some real live alcohol. (He was desperate, okay?)

And then they won. Grantaire’s gorgeous images of two men holding hands, looking so in love, just could not be denied, and the protest turned big enough to get the administration pay attention, and the suspension was suspended. The boys could take their finals, and all was well in the world.

Except now Enjolras had to drink. Oh god, what had he gotten himself into?

***

They gather at the Musain, of course. It was pretty empty, it being Tuesday and all. Only part of the gang was there. Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Marius and Cosette, Jehan, Eponine. Feuilly was working, Bahorel had a date, and Bossuet had a test in the morning, but Joly and Musichetta were celebrating in his absence. And, of course, Grantaire. He could not be more delighted that he was going to witness Enjolras’s first real drink.

Enjolras ordered a Guinness. He vaguely remembered it being popular when he was on holiday in Ireland. Besides, beer is only 5% alcohol. Harmless, right?

And then Courfeyrac suggested they play a drinking game. Never have I ever, the game was called.

“Could you please explain the rules?" 

“Sure, my dear Enjolras, what fun we are going to have. So we stay in the circle we’re sitting in, and everyone takes turns naming a thing they’ve never, ever done. The person whose turn it is, and all other people who haven’t done that thing, take the dri—“

“Courf, that’s not how you play,” Grantaire pipes up, taking a seat on Enjolras’s right, characteristic wine bottle in hand.

“Yes, it is, R,” Courfeyrac says, his eyes appearing to twinkle mischievously.  “Of course that’s how you play. Enjolras, why don’t you go first?" 

Enjolras feels like he’s being duped. But it is, apparently, his turn. “I have never been to Asia!”

“Of all the things you’ve never done, Enjolras, that’s what you come up with?” Eponine glares at him in disbelief, as Combeferre rolls his eyes and Courfeyrac groans.

Enjolras doesn’t know how to play petty drinking games, obviously. At least there are nine more people before it gets back to him; he has time to figure it out. He takes a sip of his drink, and quite unfortunately, spits it right back out.

“Guys, I knew it would was mean to let him order the Guinness. You couldn’t have encouraged him toward an IPA, or something?”

“Combeferre, don’t be ridiculous,” says Courfeyrac. “We weren’t the ones to get him into this little mess. He did it to himself. Cosette – you next.”

Cosette, sitting on Enjolras’s left, giggles. “I’ve never been with a girl.”

Courfeyrac wiggles his eyebrows in that ridiculous way of his. “Been with?”

“You know – sex!” squeals Cosette, as she turns bright red. Eponine and Musichetta raise their glasses at the same time, making a toasting gesture as the girls drink together. Enjolras drinks with them, this time managing to get the tiny sip down his throat this time.

Marius appears to be next. “Well, in that case – I’ve never been with a boy.”

Enjolras picks up his beer, and Marius, Courfeyrac, and Combeferre follow suit. Not Jehan, though, and Joly, confirming what everyone already knew about the nature of his relationship, does not.

Grantaire does not.

Combeferre is up next. “I’ve never ever skinny-dipped.”

Enjolras is on to Courfeyrac’s rules change. Of course he should have realized his friends would take advantage of the one night he agrees to join in their festivities. Of course. Cosette and Marius drink, though give each other devious glances as they sip. Enjolras stomachs down another sip as Joly and Musichetta raise their glasses.

Grantaire does not lift up his wine bottle.

Dammit, why Enjolras is noticing when Grantaire doesn’t drink? Probably because it’s such a rarity, he rationalizes. Definitely because it’s so rare. Not because he cares what Grantaire does in his spare time. Not at all.

Courfeyrac’s turn. He has this glint in his eye. Enjolras is terrified when his friend’s gaze lands right on Grantaire.

“I’ve never gotten off while thinking about our ‘Never Have I Ever’ virgin here.”

Eponine erupts in laughter. Cosette lets out a little yelp. Enjolras is thrown off – he quickly glances around the circle, confirming to himself that Courfeyrac was talking about him. He raises his glass to his mouth, of course, expecting everyone else to do the same.

Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Marius, Musichetta, Joly do. Jehan, Eponine, and Cosette, do not. Enjolras makes a concerted effort not to look to his right.

“Cosette, what – when – do you?” Marius stammers, before Cosette pats him on the knee to calm him down.

“Marius, babe, calm down. I knew him before I met you, remember? He introduced us?”

At that, Marius seems to relax, a little, but the mood in the room is a bit awkward. Before long, Courfeyrac opens his mouth to speak, but Grantaire interrupts him. 

“You know,” he says, pausing long enough that Enjolras is forced to turn his way, “if you guys are going to keep saying things you know I’ve done, this alcohol is never going to get drunk tonight. And I’m not sure I can handle a drunk Apollo utterly sober. Time for Truth or Dare, shot style?”

It takes only a moment for Enjolras to comprehend the full meaning of Grantaire’s words. He hasn’t drunk yet, once. Not even –

All of a sudden, Enjolras feels a strange feeling pulsing through his body. He likes it. Fuck. He picks up his beer and chugs the remainder of the glass.

Grantaire notices and whistles. “Fair Apollo, decided to join the fun for real? Let’s go get you a real drink, one that you might actually enjoy. You’re going to need it for the next game!”

He seems delighted. Enjolras doesn’t know what to do with this. He normally ruins Grantaire’s day, with his harsh words and strong arguments and such. Still, he lets Grantaire grab his hand and pull him out of his chair toward the bar, and tries to ignore the tingle he feels.


	2. Chapter 2

Grantaire’s smile doesn’t die down as they make their way (well, as Grantaire makes his way and Enjolras follows helplessly) to the bar.

“One… white Russian for the gentleman here!” Grantaire announces to the bartender.

“And for you, Grantaire?” the bartender asks.

“Well, I’ll actually sit this round out,” Grantaire says, gesturing with the hand that’s holding the essentially full wine bottle.

Enjolras stands mutely in the background. Even with a full bottle of wine, he’d expect Grantaire to get another, for later, or - for now. Double fisting, as he heard Courfeyrac call it, is certainly not out of the question for the man standing before him. Maybe with the altered game rules, Grantaire expects not to be drinking much. Still, Enjolras would expect…

His thoughts get interrupted as Grantaire pulls away from the bar to toward back to Enjolras. “So you know what’s in a white Russian?”

Come to think of it, Enjolras doesn’t, so he turns his attention to the bartender. “Wait, is that milk?”

“Of course, my dear Apollo, a body as perfect as yours should not purely poisoned with a drink meant for my kind. I thought you deserved some calcium, too.”

Normally, when Grantaire speaks that way of him (and it’s been happening more and more often), it’s bitter, like he hates Enjolras so much he has to objectify him so he’s a body, nothing more, not a full person with his own thoughts and ideals. Not tonight, though. Grantaire doesn’t lose the smile he’s been wearing all night while he’s talking – it just spreads to his eyes. Enjolras feels that weird pulse again.

A moment later, the bartender is done with the drink and hands it to Enjolras. He’s not asked to pay, he suspects Grantaire must have a running tab or something. When the glass is in hand, Enjolras takes a small sip. It’s not bad – tastes a bit like his morning coffee, with a hint of bitterness that’s mostly masked by the milk.

“What’s the alcohol in here?” Enjolras inquires. 

“Vodka, primarily – but not too much! Oh, and Kahlua – a coffee liquor. I figured you’d like that.”

And Enjolras does. He likes that Grantaire knows his affinity for coffee (even though at this point, everyone probably does.) In the corner of his mind, he hears Eponine and Courfeyrac clamoring for them to come back, so Enjolras holds out his hand without thinking.

Grantaire stares dumbly at it for a moment until Enjolras sharply withdraws it and starts heading back to the circle. Did he expect Grantaire to lead him back like he did to the bar?

Oh. Shit.

***

“We’ve agreed, Grantaire, that we won’t let you unilaterally decide to change the game,” Eponine declares. “We haven’t even gotten around the circle once yet! But we’ll go back to normal rules – you drink if you _have_ done it, not if you haven’t.”

Aha! Enjolras knew he had been tricked. Too bad he got a new drink that’s actually pretty tasty, doesn’t seem like he’ll have any opportunities to use it for a while.

Not that he wants to drink, or anything. Of course.

It appears to be Jehan’s turn. “I’ve never slept with anyone in this circle!”

Marius and Cosette, of course, drink. As do Joly and Musichetta. Weirdly, Enjolras notices Courfeyrac and Eponine sip as well, and he happens to catch Jehan furtively take his cups to his lips, too. Hmm, why would one lie about what they’ve done – just to drink more? That seems a little silly.

If anybody notices the small smile that finds its way to Enjolras’s face, it has nothing to do with the fact that Grantaire did not drink this round, either.

Joly’s up next. “I’ve never played beer pong. It’s unsanitary, you know.” Everyone besides Enjolras and Joly drink.

“Finally, my dear Joly, a round I can drink on. I was almost beginning to think this game was disguised as an AA meeting or something,” Grantaire jokes.

Has Grantaire been going to AA meetings? Is he trying to cut back on his drinking? Come to think of it, Grantaire hasn’t been quite as trashed as usual lately. In the last month or so, Enjolras has learned that Grantaire is quite the verbal sparring partner, no matter at what level of drunkenness he’s at. 

Enjolras’s thoughts are interrupted when Musichetta clears her throat, gathering the attention of everyone in the circle.

“As much fun as it is to be playing the right way, I think Enjolras here needs to get some more alcohol in him. As such, never have I ever spoken to an audience greater than 50 people.”

Ha! That was clearly designed to do him in, but luckily, he’s not the only one drinking. He tips his glass up to where Combeferre and Courfeyrac are sitting, and the three of them toast the air before taking their sips.

Grantaire, too, drinks. That’s weird. Enjolras doesn’t ever remember the artist giving a big speech since he’s known him – that, Enjolras would remember. Maybe it was in high school? Enjolras makes a mental note to find out when the game is over.

Eponine’s turn, now. She gets on the same mischievous grin Courfeyrac was wearing during his turn a few minutes earlier, and Enjolras, though he would never admit it, is scared.

“I have never…” she pauses dramatically “had a sex dream about anyone here!”

Enjolras leisurely glances around the circle. From his left, Cosette, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Musichetta, Eponine, and Grantaire are drinking.

Marius immediately asks Cosette if the dreams were about him, and she laughs coquettishly as she says yes, only breaking her eye contact with her boyfriend to steal a quick glance at Eponine. Hmm.

Courfeyrac is telling Combeferre and Jehan all about his dreams, and Enjolras tries to tune them out. Combeferre, with a wry smile on his face, appears to be doing the same thing while Jehan leans in with rapt attention.

Musichetta and Eponine are conversing quietly, but they lose his attention when Enjolras notices that Grantaire still has his wine bottle to his lips

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Why has Grantaire been drinking for so long? Surely he’s not drinking for every dream he’s had, right? Enjolras doesn’t understand why, but his curiously is piqued. He needs to know more.

Through his thoughts, Enjolras realizes that he, too, will need to drink during this round. Yes, he’s inexperienced, but he’s not a monk. He had his first such dream when he was 14, about Combeferre of all people. He woke up that morning with the realization that he probably preferred boys, and the notion that he would need to stay away from his best friend from now on. Combeferre caught on after a few days of little contact and coaxed what was wrong out of Enjolras. Somehow, Combeferre wasn’t horrified, they retained their best friendship, and Enjolras diverted his attention to his studies - his European history classes, especially.

That was the only erotic dream Enjolras had for a few years. Another one occurred right after Enjolras moved into his freshman dorm and met Courfeyrac, his new suitemate, but that too was a one-time thing.

Unfortunately, the dreams have come back in a big way over the last few weeks. At first they started with an unidentified man, but the details started filling themselves in – wild black hair, a few tattoos, paint splatters all over his arms.

In short, Grantaire.

Enjolras has been trying to push them to the back of his mind. He’s been telling himself that it’s natural for a 21-year-old virgin to have wants that he doesn’t know how to fulfill, so his subconscious is just filling in the details with the person who stood out most vividly in his mind.

Maybe it should be telling that Grantaire is the person who’s stood out most vividly in his mind.

But because Enjolras has to live with integrity, even during an inane drinking game, he must drink before Grantaire moves on with the next admission. He tries to sneak the glass to his lips without anyone noticing, but of course, everyone turns to him at exactly that moment. At least it got Grantaire to stop his chugging.

“Dear Apollo, it’s only customary to drink when you’ve done the thing in question,” Grantaire says, somewhat patronizingly.

“I understand the rules, Grantaire,” Enjolras states, his gaze level, body winding up with the familiar feeling when Grantaire picks a fight with him.

Cosette and Musichetta break into laughter as Eponine starts whistling. Courfeyrac joins in while Combeferre, bless his heart, tries to calm everyone down.

Grantaire, meanwhile, stands up after Enjolras realizes the artist has turned as white as a sheet. Grantaire makes for the door, spurting off some excuse about needing a cigarette before his turn.

Enjolras quickly gets up to follow before his thoughts catch up to him and tries to get to the door, but Jehan stops him. “Enjolras, stop. I’ll go make sure he’s okay.”

So Enjolras sits back down. Was Grantaire really so repulsed by the idea that Enjolras might have occasionally dreamed of him? He shuddered at the thought.

(If the Guinness and the three gulps of white Russian Enjolras had downed hadn’t already started taking their effect, Enjolras would have realized there was no way that Grantaire would have been able to know who Enjolras dreamed about. In his new, tipsy state, though, all he could think about is why Grantaire did not like him back.)

Apparently alcohol really is a sort of truth serum, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trying to figure out how to write the Les Amis, so comments would be appreciated! Also, it's not super Les Mis-y, but I'd be happy if you'd come to my tumblr (mangoapplepie.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

The game stalls with Jehan and Grantaire outside. Enjolras feels a bit uncomfortable and doesn’t even notice when the rest of his drink disappears, down his throat.

Combeferre comes over, and Enjolras thinks he looks worried. Of course Combeferre is worried, he’s Combeferre. Enjolras, though, is 100% fine. He tries to convey as much to his friend, but Combeferre pushes further.

“You know what you’re doing with Grantaire?” Combeferre asks.

“Doing?” Enjolras ponders, confused. “I’m playing the games. Just like I promised I would if Grantaire made the poster for my protest. They were great posters. Grantaire did great. Speaking of Grantaire, I think I should get another drink!"

“Okay…” Combeferre trails off. He looks hesitant but stands up and follows Enjolras to the bar.

“I’ll have a margarita, kind sir,” Enjolras explains to the bartender. It seems like a good idea. People drinking margaritas always seem to have fun.  “How much do I owe you?”

“You’re here with Grantaire, right?” asks the bartender, and Enjolras nods in assent. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll put it on your boyfriend’s tab.”

Enjolras waits a second as the bartender finishes making his drink. Once he gets it, he tries to head back to the circle, but Combeferre stops him with a quizzical look on his face. “Why didn’t you correct him?”

“The bartender? Why?” Enjolras pauses to work it out in his head. “Oh. The boyfriend thing? It didn’t seem important.”

“Be careful, E,” Combeferre states firmly. “It would be important to Grantaire.”

They settle back into their seats. Combeferre leans to talk to Courfeyrac, that annoying worried look still stuck on his face. Enjolras ignores them, glancing at his watch to see how long Grantaire and Jehan have been gone. As if on cue, they walk right back in. Grantaire doesn’t seem stressed like he did before leaving, and Enjolras excites at the small smile he’s sporting.

Once the boys sit back down, Eponine turns to Grantaire. “Your turn, babe.”

“Anyone mind if we switch games? I’m just really feeling some Truth or Dare right now,” says Grantaire.

Eponine starts to protest, but Jehan cuts her off. “Truth or Dare seems like a great idea!” he exclaims, like he and Grantaire totally didn’t have this conversation outside.

“Okay? Okay,” Grantaire pronounces. “In that case, Cosette – truth, or dare?”

Cosette looks delighted that the attention has turned to her, but her face quickly flickers into something resembling apprehension. “Um, dare.”

“Okay then,” Grantaire says with a smile. He stares at her for a second before coming to a resolve. “Kiss the person in this room you find most attractive.”

Eponine and Courfeyrac groan. Grantaire waves his arms to cut them off, indicating he’s not quite finished. “But…. you can’t kiss Marius.”

Cosette laughs. “Who says it would be Marius?”

Enjolras has never seen anyone look as affronted as Marius does in this moment. Grantaire starts chuckling in a way that just lights up his face. Enjolras would much rather look at Grantaire than Marius.

So of course that’s where his attention is focused when Cosette stands up and starts heading in Grantaire’s direction. She gets close, leans in as if to kiss him, - Enjolras is not freaking out, he’s not – and abruptly turns her head at the last minute to kiss Eponine instead.

On the mouth. For a good 30 seconds. Musichetta and Courfeyrac are hooting and hollering, and Marius stares dumbly. Eventually, Cosette pulls away, turns on her heels, and goes to sit back down.

“Well,” Eponine calls out, “that was unexpected.”

“Oh come on, Ep,” Cosette groans, “you’re really surprised I picked you?” 

Eponine just laughs, but she does seem to brighten up a little bit. “Your turn, Cos.”

“Oh! Yeah. Courfeyrac, truth or dare?”

“Truth!” Courfeyrac exclaims, after only a moment’s hesitation. 

Cosette seems ready for this, asking her question almost immediately: “When you say you’ve slept with someone in the circle, who were you talking about?”

Courfeyrac sweeps his glance around the circle, and, after apparently finding what he was looking for, answers: “Jehan.”

Jehan smiles sheepishly and nods as if in confirmation. So that’s apparently a thing that’s happening. Why had they never mentioned it before? It’s not like Enjolras would care who was sleeping with who.

(His drunken mind conveniently forgets how much shit he gave Marius when he was crushing on Cosette.)

“Wait,” Musichetta says. “If Courf has only slept with Jehan, and no one else drank on that round, then who has Eponine slept with?”

Eponine gets that shit-eating grin on her face she often seems to sport. Cosette turns bright red. If possible, Marius turns a brighter red.

“Cosette, my dear,” Eponine starts to explain, “every time you lie in a game of Never Have I Ever, the truth always comes back to bite you in the ass.” She laughs as the rest of the group startles at the revelation. Eponine and Cosette? And, maybe, Marius? Enjolras is going to need someone to explain this to him. In the morning.

Eventually, attention turns back to Courfeyrac when he announces it’s now his turn. “My dear friend Enjolras – you know I can’t pass up this opportunity when who knows when you’ll be playing this game with us again, so I have to ask – truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Why not? How bad of a plan can his friend come up with?

And then Enjolras remembers it’s Courfeyrac giving out the dare. Shit.

Courfeyrac’s dare, however, is remarkably benign. He only asks Enjolras to finish his drink as quickly as possible. So Enjolras does. He probably should stop drinking at this point, but it’s going well so far!

Feeling emboldened by the tangy drink he’s just consumed, he turns immediately to his right. “Grantaire – you know the drill. Truth or dare?”

Grantaire’s eyes rise from his bottle, which is still surprisingly filled, to meet Enjolras’s gaze. “Oh, this is a terrible idea, but, not really better than the alternative, so let’s go with dare.”

Enjolras, wondering if he would do this if he was sober, and expecting he probably would not, responds exactly how he wants to, consequences be damned. “I dare you to kiss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mini-cliffhanger! I was going to write more but I need to go to bed. Hopefully the rest will come soon :) 
> 
> Also, Cosette's dare may have been inspired by the fourth episode of "Veronica Mars," which everyone should really check out if they haven't yet.
> 
> And I don't know why I was having all these Eponine/Cosette feels tonight, but here we go. Marius can play along for the ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of angsty; I'm sorry! I'll make it better eventually, don't worry.

The room, already tingling with nervous energy, fell silent. Enjolras couldn’t figure out what was the big deal. They were playing Truth or Dare, and he dared. And he dared Grantaire, who was normally down to do just about anything in the name of drinking games! Enjolras was something; he could be done.

Grantaire, who hasn’t moved since Enjolras passed his judgment, finally opens his mouth to speak. “Can I switch that to Truth, then?”

Oh, fuck. He’s that repulsive. Grantaire won’t even kiss him in a game. This is why he normally stays out of these stupid things. He’s never drinking again if it always ends up feeling this awful. And to think he was having fun before.

“Rules are rules, Grantaire,” Courfeyrac exclaims. “And you were the one who picked the game! You keep the dare.”

Enjolras could kiss Courfeyrac right now. But only if it doesn’t get in the way of his kiss with Grantaire, that’s all that matters now.

He turns to Grantaire, and starts to lean in for the kiss. There’s a look on Grantaire’s face, though, that stops him. What was he thinking? He can’t make Grantaire kiss him without his consent, even if it’s a game. Enjolras is drunk, all right, but he’s not going to give up all of his morals – that’s no excuse. So he pulls back.

But then Grantaire’s face turns from the unpleasant face he had before to an even worse one. Enjolras can’t quite identify it, but it almost looks like – disappointment? He loses his chance to study Grantaire when the artist falls out of focus, coming so close like he’s about to kiss Enjolras. And all of a sudden, he is.

For a few moments, all Enjolras feels is bliss. He’s kissed guys before, sure, but not recently – and certainly nothing like this. His world collapses into the feel of Grantaire’s lips on his own, tongue begging for entry, which Enjolras promptly grants. They battle for dominance for a few moments before Grantaire bites Enjolras’s lower lip, and oh _fuck_ , that’s hot. He needs to figure out a way to do this again. Many more times.

Enjolras pulls away for a second, just for a breath, but the second the contact is lost, the moment is gone. Grantaire pulls far away as fast as he can move, and though his expression seems happy for a moment afterwards, it quickly falls into his oft-seen look of disgust. He takes a long swig from his bottle and seems to drink about as much as he’s already drunk tonight. Which, still, isn’t much, isn’t anything like his normal amount.

Grantaire opens his mouth to speak (the mouth with slightly swollen lips, and can Enjolras please keep him like that?)

“So, while that was fun,” Grantaire shoots out, sarcastically, bitterly, “I think I’d like to return the favor. Apollo, truth or dare?”

Hmm – this is a question. Does he want to kiss Enjolras again? It was a good – great – kiss, sure, but if he did, why did he pull away? Why doesn’t he realize Enjolras would _gladly_ kiss him again, without being dared?

Enjolras knows it’s unusual, though, to get truth or dared right after his turn is over, and he’s curious. Thus, he decides to go with Truth. When he states as much, Grantaire practically spits out his question.

“What the fuck was that, Apollo?”

“I dared you to kiss me, and you did.” Surely Grantaire wouldn’t want to waste his question on something as simple as that?

“You know that’s not what I fucking mean. _Why_ did you dare to kiss me?” Grantaire asks, somewhat hysterically. Enjolras does not want Grantaire to be hysterical.

From the other side of the room, Enjolras hears a voice – Combeferre butting in and telling them perhaps they’d like to go work on this outside? Enjolras had totally forgotten he was in a group setting.

His world had completely narrowed to Grantaire, and he was shockingly okay with that.  But it’s a good suggestion, though, so he gets up and starts trying to figure out what’s wrong. “I mean I wanted to k–“

But he stops speaking when he realizes that although Grantaire has also gotten up, he isn’t walking in the direction Enjolras has headed in, to the back room where they sometimes have strategy sessions. Grantaire is walking to – and out of – the door.

Enjolras rushes to follow, but Grantaire stops him.

“You’re drunk, Apollo,” Grantaire spits out. “I can’t handle this right now.”

And so he pushes Enjolras out of the way and heads toward the street. Towards his apartment. Enjolras would follow – normally he and Grantaire will never leave an argument in the middle; they’ll fight until Grantaire gets to drunk to continue, or until someone – usually Combeferre or Jehan – intervenes, or, the very, very rare occasion when they actually find something to agree on. But Grantaire clearly doesn’t want to have the argument they were starting, an argument Enjolras doesn’t even understand because he just wants to kiss Grantaire more?

But it’s not to be, tonight at least – and Grantaire only walked away because Enjolras was drunk. (Which was _totally_ not fair – Enjolras was only drunk because Grantaire made it so, because he demanded a night of drinking in exchange for the posters.) Enjolras will sober tomorrow, though, and he’ll deal with it then.

More than simply deal with it, he hopes.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This is my first time writing Enjolras/Grantaire, so constructive criticism and comments are appreciated!


End file.
